Chapter Nine: Amos
Amos's mind tricked him into smelling cordite and smoke, even though they weren't there. An effect of being in so many gunfights, he supposed. His eyes scanned the darkened room. A computer mainframe was set into the wall, its many lights blinking. A brick shaped device stuck out of the bottom center of it; a high capacity portable drive. Sauer was all that remained between Amos and the data.
The doctor stood there, watching Amos nervously. He braced himself for a coming fight. If Amos could see his own face, it'd look like a serial killer's; a cold, lifeless stare. His lips twisted into a sardonic, humorless smile. He clenched and opened a fist repeatedly. A throbbing pounded in the corner of his skull. He stalked his way toward the Belter, shotgun strapped to his shoulder.
With frightening speed, Amos delivered a vicious blow to Sauer's chest. The doctor tried blocking it, but was too late. He stumbled back, trying to keep his fists up. Desperate, Sauer countered with a few punches of his own. Amos blocked each one, counterattacking with his own jabs.
The mechanic's anger reached a crescendo. He grabbed Sauer in a choke hold and slammed him to the floor with a louf thud. Amos's eyes went naturally wide, as he stomped the Belter. Sauer screamed in a high pitch that was almost comical.
"S-stop, stooop!" the doctor begged.
With gritted teeth, Amos lifted him up and rammed him into the bulkhead. A sickening crack sounded as his face plate splintered. The mechanic turned Sauer around and punched the face plate until it shattered into pieces. The only thing that saved Sauer's eyes from the broken glass were his VR lenses.
Overcome with adrenaline, and desperate to defend himself, Sauer whaled on Amos. With all his strength, Amos ignored the strikes and kicked the doctor's knee. His leg bent at an unnatural angle, and he slumped to the floor. Amos looked over the suit. There was a bulky compartment in the chest. His expertise told him it was probably the power supply. He grabbed his shotgun.
"D-don't s-shoot," Sauer stuttered.
Taking the butt of the shotgun, Amos struck the compartment. It cracked open to reveal several colored wires. He grabbed the wires in a fist and yanked them, causing small sparks to fly. Sauer's limbs convulsed for an instant before freezing in place. The doctor was trapped in his own armor, immobilized. Amos stepped back a few paces and caught his breath, satisfied with the damage he had done. He twisted his helmet off, breathing the stale oxygen in the room. He wiped the sweat from his shaven head.
Sauer looked at Amos with a mix of fear and confusion. The mechanic paced back and forth around the room like a caged animal.
"Volkov-Batra type space lab," Amos said. "I know the kind. Had an apprenticeship on Luna once. They made mock-ups of these. Had us practice repairing and maintaining them, you know?"
Sauer was speechless, breathing hard, streams of blood ran down his face from cuts.
"Thing is, these lab designs were made to be built cheap. And that means cheap materials. Funny how far people are willing to go to cut expenses. Like with these heating pipes here."
Amos put his foot on the pipe's wall for support, grabbed the pipe in both hands, and ripped it off.
One end was jagged, where it had been torn. The piece was about as long as Amo's arm. He walked up to the helpless doctor.
"You hurt Naomi. I don't like people that hurt Naomi."
The mechanic knelt down to get closer to the doctor, holding the jagged end of the pipe up close.
"I'll never let anyone take my life's work from me," Sauer rasped.
Amos shook his head. "You're done, it's over."
Sauer smiled weakly, with his bloodied teeth. "Back-up battery."
Amos heard a buzz sound from the doctor's right arm, followed by a thwip. A steel knife jutted from his forearm. The doctor delivered a savage hook, aiming the blade for Amos's neck. If Amos had been a fraction slower, the knife would have penetrated his armor and throat. Instead, Amos caught the knife arm with his free hand. Then, he plunged the jagged pipe through Sauer's carotid artery. Blood gushed from the wound. The doctor's throat gurgled for a few seconds, before the life drained out of his eyes.
The door to the room opened. Amos looked in its direction, as it slowly revealed the rest of the crew. A bandage wrapped around Naomi's wound. She held her hacking device in one hand. Apparently, she had used it to bypass the door. A look of horror struck her face at the scene.
"Amos...why?" Naomi said.
"I had to kill him, Naomi," Amos said, apologetically. "I'm sorry...I had to."
She looked down at the knife protruding from the doctor's forearm, then back up at Amos, her eyes glistening.
Amos's grip slackened on the pipe. It floated to the floor in the weak gravity, landing with a clank. The burly mechanic stepped back from the shocked crew, almost expecting to be reprimanded. The mechanic picked his helmet up and twisted it back into place. He went to a corner of the room, almost as if he was a child being punished.
For the first time in a long time, Amos felt a twinge of shame. Naomi looked stricken at the sight of the gruesomely slain Belter.
"Alex, I need you to take care of this," Holden said, waving to the dead Sauer. "Get him out of here."
The pilot haplessly began hauling the corpse away. Amos stood motionless, watching Holden and Naomi. The captain squeezed her arms gently.
"Naomi, I need you to focus. There's the computer," Holden said, pointing to the mainframe. "And that must be the drive, there. It's probably going to be protected. Can we rely on you to hack the computer and unlock the drive for?"
"Y-yes, Jim. Just give me some time."
She walked to the computer, and plugged the hacking device into it.
"Amos," Holden said.
The mechanic faced the captain, lost for words.
"Fred wanted us to look for anything to salvage. Let's scope around. Find whatever we can carry back to the Roci."
"Understood," as all Amos could manage.
Familiarized with the lab's layout from his apprenticeship, Amos led Holden through the interior of the laboratory. To their relief, there were no surviving personnel or traps. There were however, about a dozen portable chests. A cursory glance into some of them revealed suits, small arms, ammunition, and mobile devices. Satisfied they would be worth something, Amos and Holden began carrying them into the computer room.
"We're almost done," Naomi declared.
After a couple minutes, Naomi disconnected her device from the computer. She carefully slid the drive out of its socket. Naomi picked up the drive by its handle.
"Good to go," she said.
By this time, Alex entered the room, his grisly task completed.
"Alex, Amos, help me grab as many of these chests as you can. Naomi, just get the drive back safe and sound," Holden ordered.
The team filed out of the lab. They stowed the chests and drive in the Rocinante's ops deck. Alex started the pre-flight checks. Naomi began warming up the consoles. Amos was just about to climb the ramp, when he stopped at hearing Holden speak to someone through his helmet.
"Good to hear it Watchdog. We're returning to be base. Holden out."
"What's up?" Alex asked.
"The blockade. They caught that cargo ship trying to leave and blasted it out of the sky. That should hopefully be the last of them."
"Huh," Amos replied. "Good."
"Yep, let's move out."
The two silently walked up the ramp and into the frigate.